Pages

Thursday, July 5, 2007

Zuv chum braman gara gatshaha

With a rope of loose-spun thread am I towingmy boat upon the sea.Would that God heard my prayerand brought me safe across!Like water in cups of unbaked clayI run to waste.Would God I were to reach my home

That reminds me

Breathes there the man with soul so dead,Who never to himself hath said,This is my own, MY NATIVE LAND!(Sir Walter Scott 1771-1832) Contributor - Didi